Page 45 of Depraved Boys

The girls crowded around the blanket in silence, and the sounds of licking and slurping mingled in the breeze. The wind blew across my face, chilling the wet tracks of tears that wouldn’t stop falling.

Geraldine moaned. “Oh, fuck, Ashley!”

“Your sister’s a multi-purpose whore,” Bianca whispered into my ear. “Do you know that?”

I closed my eyes. They could force my head in any direction they wanted, but they wouldn’t force me to watch.

Bianca gave my hair a vicious tug. “When we’ve finished with that charity cunt, she’ll want to fall down a ditch, just like you will.”

A shudder ran down my spine. I had been right. Right that these girls wouldn’t accept Ashley into their group. They were just making her jump through ridiculous hoops before they told her the truth. It was another form of pull-a-pig.

“What’s that?” Bianca whispered. “Why do we hate you so much? Girls like you exist to make us look good. You’re fat sows… Grunts to keep the system going to support us elites. Stick with your own kind and leave the wealthy heirs to those more deserving.”

Bianca continued her hateful tirade and even accused me of flaunting my virginity to get male attention. While she didn’t mention trashing my room, there was no doubt in my mind that she had broken Mom’s portrait and straightened up my room.

For several minutes, Geraldine’s moans filled the air, as did the other girls’ excited chatter. She screamed out her climax, and my stomach spasmed with dread. Bianca shoved me down onto the ground and took Geraldine’s place on the picnic blanket. I stole a glance. Geraldine knelt at Bianca’s head, holding down her friend’s shoulders and cheering Ashley on. I would have wriggled upright and hopped away if it wasn’t for the two girls still holding me by the hair.

After a few minutes, Bianca let out a shuddering moan that made my gooseflesh tighten. She adjusted herself and stood. My entire body shivered with both cold and dread and disgust, and my gaze darted to the girls holding champagne magnums.

“Well done!” She helped Ashley to her feet. “That was fantastic.”

Bianca looped her arm through Ashley’s on the left, and Geraldine looped her arm through Ashley’s right. My heart galloped a frantic beat, and my breaths came in shallow pants. I wouldn’t drink from those bottles… No matter what.

Someone untied the ball gag, and I coughed and spat out a mouthful of saliva. “Wait!”

“Don’t tell me you want to lick someone’s pussy,” said Geraldine.

I shook my head and said through spluttering breaths, “No! I’ll swim the—”

“Bring the swill and give her the foie gras treatment, girls!” roared Bianca.

My eyes widened, and I locked gazes with Ashley, who smirked. Even if she didn’t know what would happen tonight, the look in her eyes told me she’d worked out the penalty. Foie gras came from geese that had been force-fed through plastic tubes.

Clamping my mouth shut, I threw myself face-down on the grass, but the girls rolled me onto my back.

“Open wide,” someone shouted.

I clenched my teeth, and a fist repeatedly slammed into my stomach. Curling and flinching did nothing to deter the girls. They piled onto me and dug their fingers into my jaws, trying to pry my mouth open. I shuddered with each blow but still kept my lips closed.

Then a hand pinched my nose, but I parted my lips a little and clenched my teeth. Someone poured cold liquid onto my mouth, a mixture of strong alcohol and something that smelled of aniseed. Absinthe? My heartbeat redoubled, and I thrashed within the crowd of attacking girls.

“Put her to sleep,” said Bianca’s bored voice. “I’m getting cold.”

Another hand clamped over my mouth, and the one holding my nose closed pinched harder. My eyes bulged, and I stared up through the girls to find Ashley looking down at me, her eyes pitiless. It was the last thing I saw before passing out.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I’d been tipsy before, but never this level of inebriation. Never this gut-wrenching misery of being on a rollercoaster that just wouldn’t stop. Blurred images swam in an out of my consciousness. Some dark. Some blinding light.

At one point, I thought Mom told me to hang on and that someone was coming. I was that screwed up. I couldn’t tell if it was day or night, if I was alive or teetering on the verge of death. Then pain pushed itself to the surface and high-pitched beeps reverberated in my ears.

My eyelids struggled to open, but they were caked shut.

“Leave Brittas Academy. That’s what I told you,” said a male voice.

I cracked my eyes open to find a blurry Prakash standing over me.

“This place will be the death of you,” he murmured. “Don’t make me have to warn you again.”